


Past the Breech

by Rionarch



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionarch/pseuds/Rionarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is found in 1967 and America has other uses for him. Pride has little place in the Vietnam war and friends who are so far gone that change doesn't mean anything. Steve rogers may be a super soldier but he is still a victim of human conditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past the Breech

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DocDimebag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocDimebag/gifts).



He didn’t feel like there was a full disclosure with his orders. This was nothing like the warfront in Europe had been. Even before he had been able to do what had to be done and be the force of change there was still a place for everyone to make a difference.

The people on the river weren’t like that. A thick, sardonic voice that sounded like every bully he’d faced kept telling him “this is what you’re better than, now. Go on. Push them down.” And all at once Captain America felt like a foolish parade balloon. He became Captain America to help his country. He was ready and willing to lay his life down in war…but this didn’t seem like a war. The eyes that stared at him, the people he was supposed to save, looked at him soullessly. It seemed like Vichy again, and again.

He was a bully. Bronzed and brazened in American gold and meant nothing to these people.

It was one thing to be paraded around like a show dog when the war needed him to do that. The others had tried the hardest to keep the news- and wasn’t that a change, the news allowed so close to where the fighting was-  
(not that the other side had the luxury of following their moves on the radio or television.) but he had heard some of the questions. What did he think of the changes, what was his stance on the slaughter, did he have plans for the civil unrest at home.  
Everything here was in the colors of the earth. Brown, brown, everywhere even in the water with just the barest trace of blue and green to offset it. In the evening everything would be on fire where the sky melted into the water in a red-orange haze. Vietnam was indeed hazy.

“Shit, left side now!” The sound of bullets was familiar but the presentation was enough to kick him in the stomach. His team years before had been ready for anything in split second intervals but there were clear ideas to go for. Attack the train, storm the door.  
“Captain, what are you waiting for?!” The men he was with let loose on the Vietnamese attacking them. Maybe three of them were men. The other four were women covered in rags that looked vermin ridden. Steve ignored that and jumped from the river barge towards the shore. His shield blocked the bullets and even though he didn’t understand the language but the panic made it through easy enough.

He bludgeoned it against someone and heard the scream, broken bones clanking. The rest of the insurgents were flanked and shot down. A few drips of blood went down the shield. The woman in front of him had her neck cracked, wet marks in the front of her shirt that were translucently white.

A small village a few paces down started their own program of recovery as the sun started to set (fire) to everything Steve could see. There was always the chance that he wasn’t too bright for this earthy place, if this could be done so easily. Steve would give them the change they wanted.

…

“It’s 1967?” Steve felt weird after waking up but his senses brought him back sharper than ever. The rooms he had seen so far were the same metallic feel, until they made it into the hallway.  
Everything looked peaceful. There were flowers printed on the walls full of color and life.  
Steve smiled and rubbed the towel to dry his hair as they debriefed him on the war. It was everything he had wanted.

“Mr. Rogars, the president would have like to have spoken to you but circumstances being what they are, it may be unwise at the moment.” He was seated in a long conference rooms with large open windows that looked out on the grounds. One man, looking quiet, was skulking around the background.

“It’s my honor to serve anyway that I can.” One mission was all they granted him. He was a soldier that was supposed to help fight for his country and these men were finally in a position to let him do that.  
He thinks that he could live with being over twenty years too late a few more weeks wouldn’t make the difference.

“We will of course be contacting Mr. Stark as soon as we can get through to him. Due to the nature of things we are operating under radio silence.”

“Where is he?” Where is Ms. Carter is the better question, but they aren’t at liberty to repeat them yet. She’s in England. Another man put a file forward with Howard Stark’s name on it. In it was a picture of Howard, older by twenty five years. There were creased near his eyes and grey near the temples. There is an amendment to the file, a Marie Jones.

She is a young woman in a simple yellow dress and tight black curls in her hair. Most notably she was black and looking slightly miserable in the pictures. In the most recent photo was the two of them with some weight put on her; she was pregnant.

“He’s been looking at you for the past twenty-five years. We were fortunate that the Greenland expedition team that found you were so quick to bring you back. He should have another check in in roughly twelve hours. But there far more for you to do, Mr. Rogers.”

A map was pulled down with three cities in the orient circled.

“We want you to lead a minor campaign of special operations under the umbrella of Operation Cedar Falls.” Steve saluted and went looking through the files at the places he should know.

…

 

“Uah, ah…” By the time he reached the village his men had already made their way through. Behind one of the low walls of separating the homes from the banks of the river there was Private Bones on top of a young woman. Her clothes were an old purple color that were thrown to the side and he skin looked dirty.

He’d- well, Bucky had brought him to a scarlet house once, but it was nothing like this. The woman was in no command of what she was doing, tears running down her face every time Bones tried to get closer to her neck. He screamed and whacked his hand across her face, scrambling off her body with blood pooling around his groin.

“You fucking cunt!” Bones pulled out his gun, now crying himself, holding his mangled penis in his hand, and the shield made connection with his head before the gun was fired. The Bones kinked out of his neck with an audible snap and dropped like an empty weight.

Steve looked to the women, “I’m sorry…” she went wide eyed and scrambled away, the mix of fluids running down her leg. She fell over a few times like a deer learning its gait.

“Captain, Captain what happened to Bones?” His troops were back. They weren’t his, but they sure as hell were his responsibility.

Maybe at the end of the day Howard or Peggy would be able to call him.


End file.
